Two
by Leeren
Summary: Just a few drabbles based around Yuki and Shuichi. Not really romantic, but not angsty, just kinda general.
1. Instrumentals

Disclaimer: The work here is fanfiction, and has no benefit or profit to the writer. The respected characters and character traits in this story do not belong to me. Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. None of these belong to me.

Please enjoy.

If Eiri Yuki were an instrument, he would be the piano.

Of course, he wouldn't be something like a simple, modest wooden piano, left sitting in the living room. No, he would definitely be a grand piano, best set in a luxurious concert hall, only with the most skillful and prestigious players. Certainly one of the most beautiful of instruments, both sought for and popular. It was an instrument that most people, at one time or another, expressed an interest in. They were so appealing to look at- almost a feat in human design and craft, more or less one of a kind. Smooth, polished wood, skillfully manipulated into every crevice, every shape, every dip and curve. Solid, sturdy legs hold up a nearly flawless body. It was almost intimidating. But much like Eiri Yuki himself, unbeknownst to others, there was too much under the surface for most people to even consider trying to handle. You knew it could be conquered, destroyed or figured out; it was just a matter of how. It was enigmatic, almost fantastic. There was so little to it on the surface, and yet once you really took it in, it could have you scrutinizing its every shape and action for hours. All in all, it was mind-boggling, like a riddle you just couldn't decipher.

The real purpose of a piano was, of course, the music. Some can sit enraptured by the sounds for hours. Though, being Eiri Yuki, he would definitely be no Moonlight Sonata, no Ninth Symphony. There was little joyful about his music, and the times that it did invoke happiness were few and far between. The majority of the time, you felt downright ignorant or belittled around him, and you wondered why you listened in the first place. In spite of which, you stayed and listened anyway. No matter how painful the music was he played, there was something that made you want to listen. But when it did make your heart flutter in that wonderful way, since the times were so little, you had to treasure those moments. Sometimes, it was even shocking, for when you least expected it, it took your breath away. That had to be the most wonderful- and most terrible- thing about Eiri Yuki. You had no idea what music he was going to play. You just had to sit back and listen, and if you listened closely, he might just surprise you. It was baffling, really, how quick something so pretty could turn against you in a heartbeat.

But one of the most fascinating things of the piano was all of the mechanics involved in it. Few took time to consider all of the intricacies that lie in the work of the piano. If you took apart the piano, it would have hundreds of wires, of gears, of levers that let you hit just the right note at just the right time. Everything had to have a certain circumstance. The strings had to be tightened just so. The stool had to be so high. The keys had to be just this size, and with just the right amount of pressure to produce the desired sound. If even one key was broken, it could ruin an entire symphony in one false swoop. It was so complex and marvelous, like a mechanic's dream. Those who didn't know how to handle it right would find themselves helpless if it was left broken, wishing to give up. If everything was in place, you felt like you had accomplished the insurmountable. In a way, you had. Much like Eiri Yuki, the piano could definitely be a bit difficult, but if you had the patience, you would undoubtedly be glad you put in the time and effort.

Yes, Eiri Yuki would definitely be the piano. There was no arguing that.

However, if Shuichi Shindou were an instrument, he would be the human voice.

Some would argue that the human voice is not, indeed, an instrument. But you have to wonder; why not? Was it because it was a result of the human compilation, and therefore less of an instrument and more of an accessory? It was controlled much like other instruments, and only with talent and practice could it be mastered. You could learn to love it or hate it, use it for benevolence or sorrow. Surely, with such a wide range of music, of melodies, of potential, it could be considered an instrument? It was certainly musical enough. Though, Shuichi wouldn't be best suited as the voice just because he is a vocalist by trade, far from it. Much like the violin, it could be soft, sweet, almost like a lullaby for some time. But the next minute, could make any listeners gasp with the intensity and conviction filling every fiber of its being. It could be wild one moment or calm and collected the next. You certainly don't know what's going to happen, but for some reason, that made it all the more appealing and exciting. Much like Shuichi himself. But the human voice was unique in one certain aspect. It was not a tangible object. It need not be polished, or carried around in a case. It didn't need to be handled like a treasure, delicately held in your hands in a certain position or precisely played. You could "play" it anywhere, anytime, and any place. All you needed was the opportunity.

But the best thing about the human voice was it wasn't something you had to buy- or even could buy. It wasn't something you had to pay for or give up something to get. It was a blessing, a gift that everybody could love and nurture, choose it to take it up as a craft or don't. You could do with it what you would, containing the widest and most spectacular range of emotions. There were no lies when you sang; there was only the truth. But of course, because of those same reasons, the human voice was fearful. You were bearing your soul to the audience. You had no choice. It was like tearing page after page of your diary out and scattering them to the wind for the entire world to see. Because of the risks that these passions invoked, little people took that path. They dreamed of it, they aspired to it, but in the end, there are only a handful of souls that followed it through. It took dedication, resolve, courage, and maybe a bit of foolishness, or a bit of stubborn pride. Anybody who came in contact with Shuichi Shindou knew he certainly wasn't deprived of that.

Yes, Shuichi Shindou would definitely be the human voice. That was irrefutable, for sure.

But there was something even more beautiful than the pianist's keys, playing in silence. There was something even more awe-inspiring than a singer pouring their soul into every single note, giving it everything that they had. It was when they played together, in the perfect combination of harmony and melody that was truly amazing. It could be darkness or light, night or day, the sun or the moon, it didn't matter. If it was done right, they could still blend together, creating something unheard of. They were astounding in their own right when they were apart; there was no denying that. But when together, there was something special. Whether the other knew it or not, they were better off with each other than without. They just had to get it through their heads first.

Author's note: This is just some drabble that I had in my head. I might make it into a series of drabbles, who knows.


	2. Sleeping habits

Disclaimer: None of the characters depicted in this story belong to me, this is simply fanwork and gives me no profit.

Warnings: This is BL, as in Boys love, as in you can get it from there. But if you have a problem with this than honestly, stop looking at Gravitation fan fiction. Really.

* * *

You could tell a lot about a person by the way they slept.

Yes, Shuichi was aware of how odd that sounded.

Once in a while Shuichi came upon Yuki asleep when he arrived home late. Sometimes he'd be on the couch with the T.V. on, laptop perched precariously on his knees. Luckily, he always came home just in time to snatch it before the device broke. (Which he knew would lead to an invariably crankier-than-normal Eiri Yuki, and nobody wanted to see that.) Other times Shuichi came across him actually asleep in his chair in his office with his hand supporting his head. Shuichi found this the most amusing way to catch Yuki asleep, as his glasses were tilted askew on his head, and his mouth was open in a wonderfully comical way. Of course, Shuichi knew that couldn't be good for his back to sleep sitting up, so he always woke him and guided the half-asleep writer to his bed. Shuichi had considered chiding him for this bad habit, but decided just not to mention it at all.

But there were certain characteristics of the way Yuki slept, ones that he hadn't even noticed until he had really thought about it. The most noticeable out of the habits was the almost angelic look of his face when he dozed off. It seemed like he was at peace with everything, perfectly content only in unconsciousness. It was a complete contrast of how he acted when he was awake. When he was awake, Yuki was brash, sarcastic, short and occasionally hurtful. But Shuichi loved how wonderfully pure he looked in his dreams. It was such a polar opposite of his normal attitude that it was almost ethereal. Sometimes Shuichi almost felt like he was intruding on his world when the novelist slept, like he was peeking through a door better left shut.

Another thing was the way he unconsciously curls up in his sleep. It was almost like he was defending himself, like he wanted to stay in that wonderful dream world forever. To Shuichi, this was definitely Adorable Thing About Yuki #172. He'd never say so to Yuki, as it would automatically irritate the man to know Shuichi had watched him when he slept and no doubt put him on the defensive. In spite of this, Shuichi was of the opinion that when he was sleeping, Yuki resembled a kitten: Adorable, serene and completely helpless. But, once again, this was so completely out of character for Yuki in his awakened state that it really wasn't worth remarking about. Even though it might just be a natural instinct for Yuki to be that way, watching him slumber always made him a little sad. It depressed him to think that even whilst he slept that the poor man was so insecure looking. But that was silly. He's probably just cold or something.

Aside from all this, Shuichi knew that his favorite part about when Yuki slept was whenever he kissed his cheek as he left in the morning, his lips would quirk up in that lovely way, like he was trying not to laugh. Whenever Shuichi whispered "I love you" right before he closed the door, Yuki would mumble in his sleep, turning over on his side. Shuichi liked to think he was saying, "I love you, too." He knew it was silly, but it always made him giggle.

Yeah, that was definitely his favorite part.

* * *

You could tell a lot about a person by the way they slept.

Yuki had read that somewhere and at the time thought it was complete crap. Of course, that was before he had seen Shuichi for the first time after reading that article.

He never normally watched the brat sleep. Most of the time he was up so late typing that he would eventually fall asleep, but somehow end up in his bed by the morning. Yuki figured that he sleepwalked, and didn't waste much more thought on the subject. But the first time he'd seen Shuichi sleeping after reading that article, it surprised him.

It was his normal routine at night. Type, smoke a few cigarettes, type, smoke, type a little more, and smoke a little more. …And maybe have a beer. He didn't know why he decided to check on the brat, he just wanted to for some reason. Stretching, he glanced at the clock, the flashing red digital clock reading 12:42. He rubbed his eyes, suppressing a yawn. The writer stood up and left his office, vision slowly adjusting to the dark hallway. He quietly headed towards his lover's routine sleeping place: His couch.

Thin lips quirked bemusedly at the sight. Shuichi's arms curled around his blanket, his breath steady and even with each rise and fall of his chest. Yuki considered the sight for a moment. He'd never thought about it before, but there was a certain look that Shuichi got when he dreamt. It wasn't exactly peaceful, nor tortured or sad… he just seemed satisfied. Satisfied with his life, satisfied with all of his surroundings, satisfied with himself. Yes, that was exactly the way his dozing smile came across.

Yuki reached towards the younger man's face, fingertips brushing over his cheeks. Shuichi's lips curled up into a smile, sighing happily. Yuki ran his fingers through the soft pink hairs, the boy leaning in to his touch.

"Yuki…" A near silent whispers in darkness.

At the time, Yuki had pulled his hand back in shock. It's not as if it should have been much of a surprise, but it seemed like a bit of a realization to him. He had accepted the fact that because of his fame, because of his looks, because of his riches, when people said "I love you" to him they never meant it. It was a little bit amazing how only when Shuichi was unconscious Yuki could see that. Yuki wasn't sure whether the thought was depressing or touching.

Still, even though the thought would probably bother him later, Yuki ignored it. All he could do was watch the gentle, peaceful breaths of somebody who had inadvertently become the most important person in his life. Even in his dreams, he still loved the writer. Despite his insults, despite his indifference, despite all of his bad habits and faults, even in his sleep this boy loved him. With a feather light touch of lips, the man retired to his room.

Yeah, that was definitely his favorite part.

* * *

Author's note: Yes, I can't help it. The idea came into my head and I couldn't resist it. Sorry if I rotted your teeth there. Oh well. 


	3. Professions

Disclaimers: Gravitation does not belong to me. It belongs to its respected creator, Maki Murakami, and all characters depicted in these fictional situations belong to her. I get no profit from this.

Warning: …Well, there's really no reason for any warning in this chapter. Ahahaha…

Their professions were completely different, and yet, they were really very similar.

The singer and the writer, the vocalist and the novelist, and the musician and the author. Most people would say that these are completely different titles. However, there were certain elements involved in one that could be considered a mirror image of the other. Remarkably so, in fact.

Shuichi's latest song was an example of this. It was a work in progress, and he wasn't sure whether he was satisfied with it, let alone release it to the public. With the vague entitlement, it was natural that most people would not get the loose connotation with his personal life. However, a few clever individuals (well, all right, Bad Luck fanatics who knew more than probably necessary about Shuichi's life) would get the meaning of the mysterious label easily. Shuichi doubted that was a good thing.

_If only your voice would rise above a whisper_

_When you look at me that way_

_Tell me, what is it that you want?_

_I can barely understand_

_The first flakes of winter are blinding my vision _

_Blinding me to all else_

_I'm not scared, just a little bit wary_

_Tell me if I'm going in too deep._

_Pandora's box forbids me_

_Future's MIRROR leaves me face to face_

_Opposite and yet so similar_

_Tell me if I'll wake up tomorrow alone_

_I can't see the SNOW anymore_

_Allow me to be a little self-centered_

_Let me find your center_

_Drown me in ebony-stained WHITE_

Of course, to most of the fans, it was just another collection of pretty words with a soothing, uncharacteristically calm melody. Only Shuichi knew every single connection with each line and verse. Yuki would probably see the message too, though Shuichi was wary of showing it to him. His pride was at stake here.

Most of the time, he always showed Yuki his lyrics, and Yuki would almost always dub them 'worthy of a second-grade poetry contest,' 'cliché,' 'idiotic,' etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. When he didn't say things like that, he would usually just smirk and hand the lyrics back to Shuichi without a word, and give a small but approving nod. Shuichi noticed that these songs happened to do the best in the charts.

As Shuichi held the paper in his hands, he scanned the hastily scrawled hiragana and occasional English phrases. A tiny smile twitched at his lips. He decided that he was definitely going to run this by the other members of Bad Luck. But this time, he wasn't going to show the lyrics to Yuki first for two reasons, both of them linked to fear. Fear that a song that he had poured so much heart into would be dubbed 'zero talent' by his oh-so-blunt lover, and fear of what he'd say about it. Yuki was an intelligent person, and would most definitely see past the encrypted messages. Even if Yuki heard him singing or just found a copy of the lyrics, Shuichi knew he'd find out about them eventually. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

Placing the paper on the table, Shuichi scribbled the title on with flourish: "Snow".

I'm sure that this seems completely unrelated to the point made before. Why are Shuichi and Yuki's professions so alike? Be patient, I'm getting there.

* * *

Yuki never showed Shuichi any of his books. Shuichi had never really taken an interest in reading them, either. Of course, he would blather on endlessly about how good of a writer his Yuki was, or how talented he was, on and on and on. Still, Yuki had never seen him pick up one of his books or even attempt to skim through one. With most people in this situation, it would probably leave the person hurt or angry that their partner wasn't taking any sort of time to read their work. Yuki, always seeming to be the exception to the rule when it came to normal emotion, was completely fine with it. More than fine with it, in fact. Certain scenes or parts in his books would inadvertently get rather personal, but seeing as only a small inner circle knew of his past nobody put two and two together. People just assumed that they came from the frames of his mind, his allegedly 'wonderful yet somewhat dark' imagination.

Yeah, right.

But as of late, Yuki would find his writing heading towards a different aspect of his life. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. It probably meant that he was getting less preoccupied with the past and more with his present. At least, that's what his therapist had told him. Honestly, though, it frightened him a little. This person; how could he have such an impact on his life?

_"I don't understand you," she whispered, clenching her eyes shut as if in pain. Her beautiful, soulful orbs gazed at him, wishing, praying for explanation._

_Unabashedly, rough hands met soft, gentle skin. A tentative finger brushed away the tears gathering at her eyes._

_"I don't understand you, either," he murmured, "What in the world do you want me to do?" _

_It was, no doubt, a strange occurrence. For one reason or another he felt drawn to her, like it was so completely natural. It was never like this with anybody else. What was wrong with him? What was right with him?_

_Lips met lips, their silhouettes blending together by the light of the moon. Moments passed, almost feeling like an eternity. The two fell together as one._

Sometimes, Yuki wouldn't even catch these 'mistakes' until his editor pointed out certain scenes.

"It seems so real," She'd remark breathlessly, as if overwhelmed by simple stories. "It's like I can feel the character." Being the way he is, Yuki just brushed it off and said he thought it was trite.

Sometimes the blonde considered leaving certain scenes in, but more often that not cut them out. There was a one-in-a-thousand chance that Shuichi would pick up one of his books, and even less of a chance that Shuichi would make the connection. Let's face it; Eiri Yuki has a rather dense lover. Still, it wasn't a chance that the man was willing to take. His pride was at stake here.

In spite of himself, once in a while Yuki actually left these more personal tributes in his books. It was usually in a moment of spontaneity, and he would always regret it later. To his surprise, these times were when the books would sell the best. Interviewers would spout the same overly flattering blabbers of a lovesick teen, saying how heart-wrenching his books were. They would actually point out the same scenes that he almost took out and praise them endlessly to the point of rambling. Of course, in his typical 'Novelist Yuki' idiom, would make some psuedo-intellectual remark and move on.

But to be honest, he didn't like reading over his books and finding those little tidbits. He'd never been bothered by it before when he would write with the loose associations of that night with Kitazawa. This was different, though. They just seemed so personal, like he was revealing a part of his soul to the public that he wouldn't care to show. It scared the crap out of him, to put it less eloquently.

There was one piece he was particularly fond of, though. He couldn't help but leave it in, even if it would embarrass him later.

_"Don't be ridiculous," Torako whispered, her hands shaking slightly._

_"Don't be ridiculous!" Her voice rose rapidly, suddenly capturing the two in an almost possessive meeting of lips before Shinji could even react. _

_"So what if I push you into a corner? Don't think that you can get away from me!"_

_The man's eyes hardened, but she didn't hesitate or shy away. Perhaps the woman had become accustomed to that icy stare. Her eyes held a certain flame that Shinji was not unaccustomed to. Her face was inches away from his own, forcing the man to hold her unwavering gaze._

_" You can run or you can die, but I'll find you!" Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and she averted her eyes. For a moment she paused._

"_Why?" She asked quietly, as if sensing his next question. Her red hair obscured her face in the dark room, and suddenly her head was level with his in a moment of fierce intensity._

_"Because I love you, Shinji!" _

Yuki wondered what would happen if Shuichi read that particular book of his. Even he, as dense as he was, would figure it out. His reaction to it would be probably be as it always was, unpredictable and most likely wild and over the top. That was Shuichi; that was his way of doing things. But he'd think about that later. He placed a copy of the book on his desk, turning out the light and stepping towards his bedroom. By the dim illumination of the streetlights outside, the title was barely visible. In block, bold print letters above his name was the word "Home."

What was so similar about their two professions? You must be wondering that by now. It was easy, really. They could both say "I love you" but never have the other one know. But hopefully, they both will wake up one day and say: "Screw pride."

* * *

Author's notes: Well, this isn't my favorite chapter, but it's not the worst thing I've ever written. Those of you who have watched the Gravitation anime will recognize the two scenes between "Torako" and "Shinji." (I picked random names that I was familiar with.) Only later did I remember that Shinji is the main character in Neon Genesis Evangalion, but it seems like a common name so… whatever. I've never watched Neon Genesis Evangalion though, maybe I should… Oh, and Torako is a very minor character who shows up in one of my favorite mangas, Yotsubato (Also known as Yotsuba&! in America.) "Tora" means tiger, and that definitely suits Shuichi in my opinion. Oh, and about the lyrics that were in the beginning, I wrote those myself. I tried to make it in sort of a Bad Luck-ish style, and I can safely say I failed miserably. Woo! Anywho, the words in capital letters, if you didn't figure this out already, are in English.

To all of my reviewers and people who have put me on their "favorite story" or "favorite author" lists, thank you so much! I never expected to get so many reviews so early and with so few pieces. You guys are awesome, and I hope you enjoy the next chapters of my little drabble collection, "Two"!


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